


Kin, King, and Queen

by MetellaStella



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Magic, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetellaStella/pseuds/MetellaStella
Summary: Welcome to my little drabble fanfic.Moonlight had always been so romanticNow it seemed to be mocking him.Used to be what made a man tickNow he felt brittle and thin.[The King and Queen deal with Elsa as a child]
Relationships: Agnarr & Elsa (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona/Iduna (Disney)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my little drabble fanfic.

Moonlight had always been so romantic

Now it seemed to be mocking him.

Used to be what made a man tick

Now he felt brittle and thin.

The night had all the trappings of beauty.

A few brave green buds outside

Dared to defy

The season that hadn’t relinquished its grip

Crusted snow, piled deep and thick

It reflected and multiplied

The pale light of the night

That shone through the windows

Casting the room in streaks of glow

That made metal fixtures and vases gleam

While washing wood of its warm tones and sheen

However. None of this chilled scene

Caught his eye. Save for one thing.

Watching her was agony.

She, who while golden sunrays shone in the sky

When open and questing were her eyes

Was so poised and resplendent

The mother of Elsa, Queen of Arendelle

Was now tossing and turning in the bed

She shared with her wedded.

The impish white streaks lit her scrunched pained pale face

Her head jerked from one side to the other at random a pace

He wanted to hold her

But not wanting to startle

Rested hands on the mattress

The Sire spoke, calm, to the Dam of enchantress

To chase away whatever horror had decided

To inflict itself on her dreams she now rided

“Id, it’s all right, it’s not real.

The girls are safe, and they’re here.

They’re asleep in their rooms. Dear.

Listen to me, you’re asleep, too, Id, please-”

His voice cracked.

Still unconscious, she gripped her sheets.

The reaction to the change in pitch

Cut him even deeper, and he went silent.

But still inwardly castigating himself.

Just because he had been losing some winks

And his shoulders were aching with kinks

Was no excuse for a father

At such a crux to falter.

He took a breath, resuming his gentle encouragements

And she relaxed, face flatter, he hoped less lurid, raging stints

It didn’t look like she would wake this time. Good.

Another reason he’d been hesitant, if he should . . .

Wake her or not?

Occasionally the clot

Of feelings would resolve into better quality rest

But if slumber forward pressed

Sometimes she didn’t seem to recall her nighttime wanderings

And mind racings

And he didn’t want her to relive or remember

Any more

Than he should wish they’d appear

In the first place.

He settled back down under the covers

And not long after

Darkness at the depth of his mind swirled

Like a reverse snowdrift.

The thin king

Not really thinking

Or perhaps only thinking of one thing

Laid an arm across her shoulder

And allowed darkness to smother.


	2. Terror

”But you're not scared of anything."

”I was today."

”You were?"

”Yes. I thought I might lose you."

”Oh. I guess even kings get scared, huh?"

~The Lion King

Why in Heaven's name had that

_accursed talking rock_

found it necessary to play out every parent's

_**deepest fear** _

right out in front of them in vivid colors to shear

Through him, the alarm and shock

From the past still splintered into his ribcage

And up his stiff neck

Why had that shaman, _supposed_ to be wizened

With one child already just

_freshly_

out of danger, with a practiced eye sizing-

WHY would he _**do**_ such a thing?

Were their hearts _hard_ like their skin?

The bright blue and red image

Ran through in his head,

Still almost sharp and as raw as back then.

And _what_ blasted permutation

Had that _spark of dark_ imagination

Set aflame in his beloved queen

When this time should be her relaxation routine?

Practice mastery of feelings,

He was told as a child

This was the test, in his reeling,

When they ran wild

Some part of him knew and understood

He _shouldn't_ feel this way, he should

Be _grateful_ to the magic, moss-covered host

‘Cause the old troll had saved his youngest

But it was inevitable.

He pinched off the inward anger

At the being, quite strange

With a little effort.

Whenever he spoke, his words were

Controlled.

Even.

Clear of it.

Rulers were supposed to keep order.

That included their own thoughts’ structure

Rulers kept their composure,

his parents had always told the budding courtier

As much as possible, always,

From raw sibling rivalry

To when cold loneliness grip comes

They had to project a strong image not just for their family,

But for _entire kingdoms._

...

Conceal, don't feel.

...

He had come up with those words

to put to the idea himself, they appealed

To the Queen, she had taken

His little rhymes and composed

them into no less than five different songs

in order to make the sour pill

easier to swallow for their baby girl.

One had a bouncy tempo, played with her fiddle.

It even elicited from Elsa an elusive giggle

” _Good sir, ma-dame, and pass-er-by,_

_I'll look you square-ly in the eye,_

_With shoul-ders back and chin up high-!_

**_You'll never see me cry!_** "

One of them was more introspective

while her mother accompanied herself

on the harps' strings

”Don't let them in past instability.

Don't let them know your vulnerability."

Yes, picturing her voice coupled

with the lulling

instrument was always helpful.

Though anger coursed through his veins

And it had its way, indignation

He had to model self-control for Elsa

And never quit just because she wasn't present.


End file.
